


Making Space

by ScrollingKingfisher



Series: Birds of a Feather [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mating Rituals, This fic is the result of too many hours watching David Attenborough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrollingKingfisher/pseuds/ScrollingKingfisher
Summary: Something is going on with Gabriel, again. Sam is determined to figure it out, but what can nature documentaries have to do with it?





	Making Space

**Author's Note:**

> As always, a massive thank you to @theriverscribe for her superior betaing skills and awesome encouragement! You're the best and writing wouldn't be the same without you <3

 

 

   It was early springtime, and the land outside the bunker was just starting to defrost from winter. The first shoots were pushing up through the soil as Sam stepped out the bunker for his morning jog. The air was crisp and cool, but the sun warmed the side of his face, telling him that better days were coming, and the birdsong filled the air with the rich sound of newborn life.

 

   Sam grinned as he watched a songbird perched on the top of the nearest tree, its breast puffed out and wings flicking as it sung a crescendo of notes. He shook his legs and stretched, then started a slow, loping jog along the rough-worn track around the bunker. Spring was growth, and change, and a new chance. He loved spring.

 

   “Look here, found a moose in its natural habitat!”

 

   Sam skidded to a stop as his head whipped around towards Gabriel, who stood grinning at him from the side of the track. Grinning back, Sam walked over to him, enjoying the way Gabriel’s eyes lingered on his shirt where it was sticking to his chest.

 

   “Someone’s up early this morning.”

 

   “Things to do, places to be, sweetheart,” Gabriel leant up and planted a quick kiss against the corner of Sam’s mouth. “I might be back late, didn’t want you worrying. Catch you later!” And before Sam could reply, he vanished in a rush of wind.

 

   Sam blinked. That was unexpected, and… oddly sweet. Gabriel didn’t usually go in for obvious displays of affection, but Sam found he liked it. With a new spring in his step and a grin on his face, he ran on.

 

.o0o.

 

   Another reason that Sam loved spring was that it was a slow season for cases. That meant lazy days, enough sleep that exhaustion wasn’t constantly trying to drag his eyelids down, and a relaxed brother. Or as relaxed as Dean ever got.

 

   “Nature documentaries, Sam? Really?” Dean groaned from the comfort of the sofa, reaching for his beer.

 

   “Hey,” Sam retorted, “It’s interesting, alright? Shut up and watch, jerk.”

 

   Dean huffed around the neck of the bottle, and Sam heard him mutter “nerd” under his breath, but he settled down quickly. Castiel gave them both a long-suffering look, but Sam hid a smile. He knew that even now Dean often felt the need to put up token resistance whenever they watched anything other than action flicks (and Doctor Sexy, of course), even if he enjoyed the occasional documentary. Plus, Sam was sure that he was still too worn out from the recent wendigo hunt to even heave himself off the couch and make him change the channel.

 

   Sure enough, by the time the documentary got to a scene where iguanas were being chased by snakes, Dean was leaning forwards, hands gripping the arms of the chair. Their breaths all caught as the iguana escaped the sea of writhing coils. When the lizard reached safety, Dean actually punched the air and let out an impassioned, “Yes!” Sam grinned, and Cas smiled at Dean fondly from the other armchair.

 

   Dean turned to see them grinning at him and tried to tamp down his enthusiasm.

 

   “What?” he asked gruffly.

 

   “Nothing,” Sam turned back to the program.

 

   Dean’s opinion on nature documentaries had obviously been transformed because he didn’t object when another documentary came on straight afterwards. Sam took a long pull of his beer and wondered idly if Gabriel was going to be back from whatever he was doing before they went to bed.

 

_“Nuptual gifts are common among birds. Starlings, for example, often provide gifts of food. This is presumed to signify that they can provide resources, and emphasize the quality of the territory. Other examples of care include grooming and preening, especially the back of the neck…_ ” Sam watched as the parrots onscreen preened each other, letting the smooth voice of the presenter wash over him.

 

   _“Birdsong can act both to attract mates, and to repel rivals. As well as creating and guarding territories, another common courting technique is displaying. This may include aspects such as wing flicking and bobbing, but many species have more elaborate displays.”_

 

   Dean snorted in laughter as a manikin bird started moonwalking along the branch, and Sam felt his lips twitch in amusement. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas shift slightly.

 

_“As well as physiological features, some birds build structures simply to attract potential mates.”_

 

   The bowerbird on screen picked delicately at the structure built of grass, carefully arranging the blue objects scattered around it in obvious concentration. Its head tilted to the side as it fastidiously cleaned up, everything placed precisely where the bird wanted it to go. Sam felt his eyes fixed on it, fascinated.

 

   Dean roared with laughter when one of the bowerbird’s neighbours stole some blue objects while it wasn’t looking, to the bird’s obvious dismay. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Cas shift again, and turned in time to see his trench coat vanishing through the door.

 

   That was strange. Cas had seemed like he was enjoying the documentaries. Giving an internal shrug, Sam turned back to watching the poor bowerbird trying to steal his blue objects back from his neighbour’s bower.

 

.o0o.

 

   Despite Sam’s hopes, Gabriel still wasn’t there when Sam stumbled to bed. He frowned a little, because where the hell was he?

 

   Sternly, he told himself not to worry. Gabriel was an archangel, he could look after himself. He’d told Sam he was going to be late. He was probably just caught up in dealing with the latest asshole. Yawning, Sam pulled off his shoes, flopping down onto the mattress.

 

   Only to sit straight back up again when there was an unexpected crinkling. He twisted and looked down at his pillow.

 

   There it was: a piece of candy sitting innocuously on the centre of his pillow. And not just any old candy, either; it was one of those individually wrapped nice chocolates (strawberry filling, his favourite). Carefully, he reached out and took it, turning it over in his fingers.

 

   This had to be Gabriel. Nobody else would come into his room and leave chocolates. It could just be a coincidence; Gabriel just spontaneously deciding to do something nice for him.

 

   But Gabriel had been acting… odd. Disappearing at odd times of the day and night, acting a little shifty, sniping at Dean a little more than usual. Sam was starting to get a little concerned, and a little annoyed, because he wasn’t stupid. He knew that something was going on. Sam really just wished that Gabriel would _talk_ to him about it. He knew that it was going to be hard for Gabriel to open up about something that he’d obviously been hiding for a very long time, but didn’t Sam deserve to know what was going on? Because historically for the Winchesters, keeping secrets was not a good idea.

 

   Sam frowned again, turning the chocolate bar over in his hands and sitting on the bed. He had let the secretive behaviour slide at first because Gabriel had been slowly opening up more and more since he moulted (apart from the past few weeks), and he’d hoped that Gabriel would come forwards and tell Sam himself. Whatever was bugging Gabriel though he wasn’t letting on, exactly like he had done with his moult. Which made Sam think that Gabriel’s problems this time were with accepting _himself_ , specifically the angelic part of himself, rather than not trusting Sam. Which was kind of sad.

 

   But if Sam was going to help in any way, he had to find out what was going on. He knew that Cas wouldn’t tell him, and Dean wouldn’t think anything was out of the ordinary. He thought back over the past week and a half, trying to figure out what was different. They had hunted that rugaru, and then…

 

   Hang on. Those salads. It had been weeks since Dean had gone shopping, before the rugaru hunt, and yet the salad he had eaten for lunch that day had been so fresh that it might have just been picked. So either Dean was nursing a secret gardening hobby, or one of the angels was stocking the fridge. And since Cas tended to forget that they even needed food sometimes, Sam could bet he knew who it was.

 

   So food; salads and chocolates. But why? From the back of his brain, the melodious voice of the wildlife presenter echoed; “ _nuptial gifts_ ”.

 

   Sam shook himself and grinned, pushing the thought aside. No. That couldn’t be it. Angels weren’t birds, even if they did have wings, and he was pretty sure that Gabriel would be mildly insulted at the suggestion.

 

   He was obviously too tired to try and solve this tonight if that was the best his brain could come up with. Trying not to think about it anymore, Sam climbed into bed. He was still half awake when Gabriel joined him ten minutes later. He smiled and tugged his lover closer, falling easily into sleep.

 

.o0o.

 

   Sam woke in the middle of the night to a sound.

 

   Was it a sound? It was deep, and soft, more like a subtle vibration in his bones than noise. If he had been a regular person he might well have slept through it, but hunting had taught him to sleep lightly. He reached over and felt a twinge of alarm when he found that Gabriel was gone, although according to the residual warmth he hadn’t been gone for long.

 

   Not bothering to turn on any lights he wandered out into the corridor, the floor cold under his bare feet. He followed the sound, letting the soft illumination of the emergency lighting guide him as he crept up the stairs leading to the roof.

 

   He checked the knife that he had slipped in the waistband of his pyjamas. Quietly, he pushed the trapdoor up.

 

   The sound was much louder outside. It throbbed under his skin like a living thing, swelling and squirming around his bones. If Sam strained he could hear melodies within it, beautiful and unworldly. He couldn’t decide whether it was amazing or terrifying.

 

   Right at the source of the noise, Gabriel was sitting on the edge of the roof, silhouetted against the sky. His mouth was open, breath clouding a little in the chill night air as the song resonated out into the landscape.

 

   Sam hesitated for a second, watching, mesmerised. Then, very quietly, he closed the trapdoor again and tiptoed back to bed. Half an hour later the humming petered out, and a few minutes after that Gabriel climbed back into bed, his fingers still a little cold from the night air where they pressed into his skin.

 

   Sam knew he should have asked, should have sat up and made Gabriel tell him, but… he couldn’t make himself. What he had just witnessed seemed more alien and strange than the idea of Gabriel moulting ever had, which was probably why Gabriel was trying to hide it from him.

 

   Sam smiled to himself and turned over to bury his nose in Gabriel’s hair. As though Gabriel could scare him off that easily. He would do his own research and try to find out what was happening tomorrow. And at some point, Gabriel would tell him what was going on, and Sam would be there for him.

 

   Just as he was falling asleep, the voice in the back of Sam’s head whispered “ _birdsong_ ”.

 

.o0o.

 

   The next morning Sam found himself in the library, flicking through the book that Cas had given him to let him know about Gabriel’s moult. He had read it, and he didn’t remember anything about mating displays, but…

 

   There. A tiny paragraph tacked onto the end of the chapter on behaviour.

 

   _Very little is known about whether angels display any mating behaviours, or indeed if they mate at all. How new angels are produced remains a mystery. Although there have been several enochian references found pertaining to ‘courting season’, and a few accounts of gift-giving, this has never been backed up by any documented evidence._

 

   Sam looked up, eyebrows raised in surprise. The book might not have the evidence to back up their claims, but he did. His random thought had been correct; the chocolates and salads were _nuptial gifts_ , and maybe the song was a way for Gabriel to mark his ‘territory’. Thankfully it didn’t seem to be scaring Cas away at all, even though he had been behaving a little oddly too recently… hmm…

 

   Sam considered as he closed the book. Should he bring it up? But that might make Gabriel try and bury them even more, and Sam didn’t want that for him. He obviously had enough problems dealing with it as it was. If Gabriel wanted to talk to Sam about it, or if it became more obvious, then Sam might confront him about it, but until then Sam decided to leave it be. After all, he thought with a grin, he was quite enjoying the little gifts that Gabriel was leaving for him.

 

.o0o.

 

   Over the next week, Sam noticed it more and more; how Gabriel seemed reluctant to let Sam out of his sight, the subtle shifts of his shoulders that Sam now realised was him flexing his wings. He was twitchy and irritable with everyone not Sam, but even so he was reluctant to leave the bunker. This put together with Dean’s attitude made for even more friction than usual.

 

   All in all, the atmosphere in the bunker was tense enough to create sparks, and Sam was starting to run out of patience. He was surprised that it took as long to come to a head as it did.

 

.o0o.

 

   “Oi, Winchester! Get your filthy boots out of my room!” Sam raised his head from the book in front of him as the angry shout echoed clearly from the corridor leading to the bedrooms. Oh no, here we go. He stood, walking quickly from the library towards the sounds of bickering.

 

   “Dude, I was handing over your washing! I barely even put a toe over the threshold!” Dean looked around at the sound of Sam’s footsteps, and threw him a pleading expression.

 

   Gabriel stood blocking his own doorway, bristling at Dean with his arms folded across his chest. As soon as Sam appeared he seemed to relax, but only a little.

 

   “Sammy, there you are! Finished punishing your poor brain cells over those dusty texts?”

 

   “Um, not really but… What’s going on?”

 

   “Going on? Nothing.” Gabriel shrugged, but his shoulders were still tense. Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

 

   Dean glanced between them, eyebrow raised. Then he threw his hands up and started to walk away. “Why you always gotta pick the weird ones, Sammy?” he called over his shoulder.

 

   “That’s right, keep walking, bucko!” Gabriel yelled after Dean’s retreating back, but didn’t make any move to follow. Sam waited until Dean was around the corner before speaking.

 

   “Alright. What’s going on?”

 

   Gabriel went from pissed to shifty in half a second. “Nothing. I just didn’t want him in my room.”

 

   It was a massive overreaction, and Gabriel obviously knew it. Gabriel didn’t usually care about his room. At all. When he had first moved in the Winchesters had given it to him more out of politeness than anything else, given that Gabriel didn’t have to sleep. And these days, he spent ninety percent of his nights in Sam’s room anyway.

 

   Sam snorted. He’d had enough. “Yeah, okay. You nearly snapped Dean’s neck for knocking on your door. What’s going on, Gabriel?”

 

   Gabriel opened his mouth, presumably to try and distract Sam some more, but before he could react Sam happened to glance through the mostly-closed door. His eyes widened and he slipped around Gabriel, pushing past him into the room. Gabriel made a half-hearted noise of protest, but Sam knew that if he really didn’t want Sam in there, Gabriel was more than strong enough to drag him back out. He didn’t. Sam stopped just inside the doorway and stared.

 

   “Woah!”

 

   Stars. That was his first impression. Stars, everywhere. The room was entirely dark except for the tiny pinpricks of light, giving the impression that the space was much larger than it was. They covered the walls and the ceiling, glimmering subtly, and they hung in the air, unsupported. Clusters and galaxies, suspended in the darkness of the room.

 

   The stars got denser in the centre of the room, the lights larger and brighter until they formed a glowing web around an empty space in the middle, a snug person-shaped cocoon. Sam can see even from the outside that from within there, it would look as though you were surrounded by the night sky. The dim light caught on the soft folds of blankets. He stepped forwards, almost involuntarily. It looked… inviting. _Bower_ , whispered his mind, unbidden.

 

   “Do you… do you like it?”

 

   Sam realised that there had been a tense silence from behind him while he was inspecting the room. He turned to see the worried lines on Gabriel’s face, illuminated by the door that was still cracked open. Now that Gabriel had broken the silence, he couldn’t seem to stop, and he kept babbling. “This probably looks really strange. I haven’t even… I haven’t even told you. About what’s happening. I know it’s not much, hell it’s meant to be done with real stars, but you can’t go out there, and I just thought…”

 

   Sam gently put a hand over Gabriel’s mouth, damming the tide of words. “Gabriel,” he breathed, looking around the room again at the lights. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

 

   Gabriel was quiet for a second. “Really? You think so?” His voice sounded so much smaller than Sam was used to, tiny in the new-made vastness of the room.

 

   “Yeah. Of course I do.” What had Gabriel said, about real stars? Sam felt his eyes widen as he looks around at the shimmering lights again, and suddenly saw them in a whole new context. Angels were vast beings of light when not compressed and folded into tiny human vessels, as big as the Chrysler building. And that was just Castiel. How large would Gabriel, an archangel, be in his true form?

 

  Sam looked again at the dense network of stars in the middle of the room, at the space carefully crafted right in the middle, at the _bower_. A performance stage, built of stars. A celestial concert hall made for the sole purpose of wooing. Sam had the sudden mental image of angels dragging stars through space, igniting new ones until they formed a shape that they wanted. Crafting their bowers, weaving starlight as diligently and carefully as a bowerbird delicately shaping straw. And then, he knew exactly what he had to do.

 

   Sam took a step forwards, then another, until he was right in front of the cocoon of lights in the middle of the room. Behind him, he heard Gabriel let out a harsh breath. “Sam…” his voice was low and warning, but Sam knew him well enough to hear the desperate undertone. He turned back and gave Gabriel a reassuring smile that he knew the archangel could see despite the low light.

 

   “Gabriel, I know what’s going on. I know what you’re doing. And it’s okay, alright?”

 

   Gabriel’s eyes darted over his face before he looked down, shaking his head. “You knew. Of course you figured it out.”

 

   Sam smiled. “Of course I did. You know, if you wanted to court me angel-style, you should have just asked.”

 

   He saw Gabriel’s head snap up. “Really?”

 

   Sam grinned, then stepped forwards deliberately, right into the centre of the lights. He sunk slowly down to sit on the blankets. Gabriel was still standing, staring at him in disbelief, silhouetted in front of the door. Sam could see his shoulders shaking. He was staring at Sam, hunger reflecting brightly in his eyes. Then he seemed to come to a decision. He reached behind himself and pulled the door closed with a soft click, shutting out all the light and sound from the hallway.

 

   It was even darker in the room now, and the stars seemed even brighter for it. It was as though they really were in space, and if the solid reality of the blankets beneath him hadn’t been there, Sam might have believed that he was actually floating in the cosmos. There was no sound apart from their breathing, Gabriel’s heavy and trembling. Sam waited for the display to begin, a little nervous knot of anticipation in his stomach.

 

   It began with a heavy rustle. _Wings_ , Sam’s brain told him, and his fingers clenched on the knees of his jeans. A flicker of movement in front of him, and another, softer rustle, and Sam gasped as what was happening became obvious.

 

   In the light, Gabriel’s wings were a beautiful, burnished gold. But now that it was dark, their true glory was unfurled.

 

   The tip of every feather glowed, a gentle yellow bioluminescence. The wings rose higher and higher in display, trembling so that the outlines shimmered. They were glorious, filling the whole room. They spread, wider and wider, then snapped shut. Then they slowly opened again, the lights shimmering and shuddering in a psychedelic peacock display, and flicked closed again. It wasn’t just a demonstration, it was a dance, and Sam couldn’t look away, dazzled by the spectacle in front of him. He suddenly felt incredibly small, and Sam could suddenly picture his true size, highlighted by the background of stars.

 

   Gabriel came closer and closer, feather lights rising and falling and flickering until they filled his vision. With one final shudder of light the wings stilled, open where Gabriel slowly moved to kneel in front of him.

 

   Was he supposed to move? Sam waited for a second, then hesitantly reached forwards.

 

   That was apparently the signal that Gabriel had been waiting for. He lunged forwards into Sam’s arms, almost knocking him off balance as Sam drew him in for a deep kiss.

 

   Once they broke apart Gabriel’s wings were trembling again, open and shimmering. Sam could just about see the reflections in his wide eyes, framed by the feather-lights. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

 

   “Yeah?” Gabriel’s voice resonated, deep and throaty. “Well what are you gonna do about it?”

 

.o0o.

 

   “Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam asked afterwards, while they were catching their breath back, looking up at the lights floating overhead.

 

   Gabriel shrugged. “I dunno. I was… afraid, I guess.”

 

   Sam turned to look at him. “You know I’d never leave you over something like this, right?”

 

   “No! It wasn’t… It wasn’t you I was afraid of.” Sam waited patiently for him to go on. Gabriel took a deep breath and spoke quietly. “I haven’t done this for… millennia. Since before Earth even existed. I never thought that I’d ever get to do it again. I’d almost forgotten about it.” He snorted. “And now I can’t control it. It just… happens. That’s what frightens me.”

 

   It did sound a little frightening. Sam knew how unpleasant it was to feel out of control, but this didn’t have to be a bad thing. This wasn’t heaven or hell messing with them, or fate, or anything like that. It was just _them_.

 

   Sam smiled as he reached up to prod one of the lower lights. “So, are you feeling better now you’ve wooed me properly?”

 

   Gabriel turned his head to give Sam a deeply unimpressed look. “Count yourself lucky that humans don’t have biologically imperative breeding seasons, Winchester. It’s not nearly as fun as you seem to think.” There was no heat behind it though and he draped himself more firmly against Sam’s side.

 

   Sam grinned, wrapping an arm around him, stroking over where the wings were hidden again. Gabriel grumbled and batted halfheartedly at him. “I’m just surprised that Dean hasn’t been dragged into a darkened room by Cas yet, the way they’ve been staring at each other.”

 

   Gabriel snorted against his arm. “That’s seraphs for you, no sense of romance.” Gabriel’s face turned thoughtful. “I’ll have to give him some tips.”

 

   Sam laughed, already imagining Dean’s face when he found out that Cas had been trying to romance him. And now that he knows what’s happening, who knows? Next year he might try and build a bower of his own…

**Author's Note:**

> Next spring, Dean will ask Sam "What the hell did you buy three hundred fairy lights for??"


End file.
